


Incubus

by whiteroses77



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Desire, Drama & Romance, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Jealousy, M/M, Sensuality, Vampire Bites, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: After an unusual experience, Bruce feels an indescribable need, while Clark feels confused about what Bruce wants, and what is going on with his friend.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Other(s), Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Oliver Queen
Comments: 38
Kudos: 192





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Incubus 1/4  
PAIRING: CLARK KENT/BRUCE WAYNE  
AUTHOR: WHITEROSES77  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the stories not the characters.  
WORD COUNT: 2,618  
SUMMARY: After an unusual experience, Bruce feels an indescribable need, while Clark feels confused about what Bruce wants, and what is going on with his friend.

~B~

It was dark except for the strobe lighting as it struck through the black at rhythmic intervals. Bruce didn’t know why he was here, only that something seemed to have called to him through the night.

Despite his playboy image, dark crowded hotspots had never been his thing. For his facade to work, he needed to be seen, and places like this despite the heaving mass of bodies were places of secrecy and ambiguity.

As the lighting pulsed to the bass, he searched the darkness, and the press of bodies looking for the reason he’d been drawn here.

Exquisite angles of contrast caught in the light for a second, before the strobe moved again. Bruce breathed deeply at the trick of light and shade. When the light returned, movement had hidden those features again, and midnight tousles of black hair caught the light instead.

He couldn’t take his eyes from the figure. He wore tight black leather pants, with a black shirt the same exact black, like a second skin clinging and highlighting his body. If it weren’t for the delicate pattern of black embroidery on the shirt you wouldn’t be able to tell where the pants stopped and the shirt began. 

He wore the shirt with a few buttons open that drew attention to the golden skin of his throat and upper chest. Bruce's gaze lingered on the broadness spreading the material. When his gaze returned to his face, piercing eyes had found him through the darkness.

Bruce's chest rose and fell as his heart pounded, and those eyes watched with interest as Bruce found he couldn’t look away. 

There was something about that gaze, something predatory, something that could cause weakness if he allowed it. However, Bruce was something of a predator himself, not of the weak, but of the evil that preyed on the weak, and he wasn’t afraid of him. 

It was much worse, he wanted him.

He saw another man, a blond approach through the crowd. The handsome guy leaned in and uttered something in his ear, and his eyelashes fluttered a little in response. Finally he and Bruce's gaze was severed as the perfection in front of him turned to look at and speak to the other attractive man. 

There was a slow knowing smile that came to his sensuous lips. He caught the blond's hand and with just his fingertips he drew him onto the dance floor. They moved into each other’s arms and began to dance together, up close and sensual. 

They turned in a circle, and he watched them lean in and kiss. It was deep with a flash of tongue. He knew the kiss was good because the blond lifted his muscular arms and looped them around the other man’s neck, pressing his whole body to the front of his. Clinging, as he took his mouth.

Bruce prowled around the edge of the dance floor, still watching. He couldn’t look away. He watched his body move, his thigh pressed between the other man's legs, he watched his ass moulded by the black leather. 

He watched the blond’s fingers thread through the midnight waves, trying to get closer. As they turned to the music, those gorgeous eyes opened and with almost preternatural awareness, he met Bruce's gaze. 

Bruce shivered at the attention, knowing that despite the heat of the kiss that he was sharing with another man, his focus still found him.

He watched the kiss end with a glide of tongues, and he watched the blond slip away and head towards the bar. Yet he didn't follow, he stood in the middle of the dance floor and held his gaze with intensity. The masculine beauty knew and was confident in Bruce's animal attraction.

Bruce licked his dry lips. 

A twitch of a smile was sent his way, and then with temerity he crooked his finger and beckoned to Bruce to come to him.

He stood there frozen, caught between wanting to go into his embrace, and wanting to flee into the dark night outside this place.

The moment lingered too long and the smile faded away. 

Bruce turned away and pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the exit. Once out on the street, he breathed in the cool night air. He walked down the street, and he laughed spontaneously. A nervous laugh, a laugh of relief.

“That’s a good laugh.” a low seductive voice told him.

He stopped in his tracks, and looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Then when he faced forward again, he was standing in the middle of the street ahead of him. The street lighting glinted off the silken black of his hair.

He met his heated gaze, and felt a sense of danger prickle through him. He commented, “Weren't you busy in there.”

A slow smile graced his sensual lips, “I could sense that you wanted me out here more.”

With bravado, he chuckled, “You could, could you?”

Those eyes that looked like there was mascara on the lashes surrounding them, traced Bruce's body down and then back up again. The attention made Bruce's skin goose-bump, and he shivered.

With smugness, the other man asked as he approached him in a slow prowl, “Why do you run away, are you scared of me, or are you scared of what I want from you?”

He had to fight himself to stand his ground and not back away. 

Gorgeous eyes held his as he leaned in, and then he whispered in his ear, “Or are you scared of admitting what you want from me?” 

Bruce began panting just from this closeness. He was already getting hard, and he felt half delirious. 

His fingertip caressed Bruce's jawline, “I don’t want you to be afraid.” he told him.

Huskily, Bruce declared, “I’m not afraid.”

Then Bruce grasped the other man’s head and he took his mouth hard. His pretty mouth opened for him and then in return he was being devoured by full lips, soft tongue and the hint of sharp teeth.

He revelled in the kiss, and his fingers curled into midnight softness. He tasted of everything that Bruce wanted. His cock hardened to full attention; still trapped by denim it was almost tortuous.

Then the other man laughed into his mouth. “You kiss me as if I was someone that you’d wanted for a very long time." he caressed Bruce's lips with his fingertips, "In your desire, you glow like the moon, reflecting the sun’s power.”

Bruce panted with excitement and fear, “But you’re not the sun, are you?”

In a blink of his eyes, he found himself in an alleyway just off the street. In another, he was spun around and he was pressed face first against rough brick. In the next, strong male hands reached around and unfastened his fly. His pants were dragged over his ass. He grimaced, “Shit.”

There were strong hands on his hips. A thick wet tipped length nestled into the valley of his ass cheeks, and then there was tortuous pressure against his centre, and his mouth opened in a silent scream against the brick wall that he was pressed against.

He was opened up steadily but almost overwhelmingly, and he had the urge to tell him to stop, but the problem with that was he didn’t want him to stop.

When he was all the way to the hilt, and another’s warm skin met the flesh of his ass cheeks, it was then that the man began thrusting, fast and hard. Bruce gasped and moaned in exquisite pain but he didn’t fight him, wouldn’t fight him.

Hot breath in his ear, “The man you want me to be, you must want him real bad.”

At the goad, Bruce growled against the wall, “Just shut up and fuck me.”

With possession, strong hands pushed Bruce's black t-shirt further up his back, his hands measured and caressed his back and his muscled chest and toned waist. Then the man stepped back, so only half his length was still inside Bruce’s ass.

He felt his hole spasm around that thick long length with need. Bruce turned his head and looked over his shoulder, and saw him watching him with that intensity, that playful arrogance in his eyes.

Bruce's nostrils flared. He knew what he wanted from him. He stepped back from the wall, still bracing his hands, but arching his back, sliding back onto the rest of the length. An almost familiar smile curled full lips, as Bruce's eyes rolled back with pleasure. Then his hands took deliberate hold of Bruce's bare hips, and he withdrew completely and then thrust his full length into him.

Bruce cried out, and he turned away and bowed his head between his own outstretched arms. He took the smooth hard thrusts of that cock, and his own cock hung hard and dripping. His muscled thighs tensing to stay there and take it.

“That’s right, take me, want me.” he was urged.

With a trembling breath, he confessed, “Yes.”

When he was shaking with adrenaline, shaking with pleasure, strong hands pulled him away from the wall, and forced him upright and back against his chest, arching back and down on his hard length.

His mouth pressed to Bruce's neck, and he growled, “Come for me, give me your essence, come for him.”

He came on demand, and his come sprayed the brick wall. He keened, “Clark!”

Then sharp teeth plunged into his neck, and then everything went black.

~*~

He woke up struggling to breathe, soaked in sweat. He bolted up, glanced around the darkness, and recognised the bed, and the open French windows of his own bedroom. His hands grasped at his own bedsheets needing to feel something real. “Just a dream.” he groaned with relief.

He slumped back against the mattress, his chest heaving as he gazed at the ceiling trying to catch his breath. His body ached and he felt exhausted for some reason. He wiped his sweaty face with his hand, and went to rub his tense neck.

When he did, he found his skin was sensitive. He frowned and then got out of bed and went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He was dismayed at what he found. Not a bite wound, but a bruise.

He wondered, 'What the hell had happened tonight?'

~S~

The following day

Superman could feel his teammate’s gaze on him across the conference room table. Batman was always watchful, but today, he wasn’t taking everything in as usual, his focus was solely on him. 

It was a little unnerving, and he did his best to ignore it, and carry on with the regular monthly meeting as usual. Yet it was hard to ignore, he found himself returning his gaze to his best friend over and over. 

Every time, Batman was still looking at him. 

Though he looked completely calm as usual, Clark could hear Bruce’s heart thrumming inside his chest. It made his own heart beat speed up in response.

He felt under a spotlight, and he fidgeted in his seat, licked his lips nervously and tore his gaze away for the umpteenth time.

When he did, he found Green Arrow watching him curiously. His teammate asked silently, “Are you okay?”

Superman felt flustered and nodded subtly. Automatically, his gaze returned to Batman again, and he caught him following the exchange between him and his other teammate. 

When their gazes met again, Batman looked even more intense.

Finally, the meeting ended, and the rest of the Justice League filed out the door. Batman and Superman stayed in their seats. 

Green Arrow was halfway to the door, when he turned around and saw they weren’t following. He studied them for a long moment and then carried on going out the double doors.

Once alone, the silence expanded between them. Then because of the tension, Superman asked with his voice a little gravelly, “Is everything alright?”

Batman said tersely, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Superman snorted softly, “Because you seem distracted, Bruce.”

“You seemed distracted too.” he retorted.

He took a breath and admitted, “Your distraction was what was distracting me.”

His teammate just stared at him for a very long moment, and Superman’s skin felt prickly and then suddenly Batman stood up from his chair. It was crazy, because he was kind of invulnerable, and he had super fast reflexes but it made him jump, and he was out of his chair too. 

Batman eyed his nervous reaction keenly. Then his friend was approaching him. It was how he walked when he was Bruce Wayne, all confident glide, sexy. It was the first time he’d seen him walk like that while wearing the Batsuit.

Then Batman was up close, too close, but maybe not close enough. He could feel Batman’s breath on his face. Maybe it was being under such close scrutiny but Superman felt wound up and a little breathy. 

His friend’s gaze was lingering on his mouth. That attention was nerve making and exciting at the same time. He’d waited for this, waited until Bruce wanted to change their relationship. Superman swayed forward instinctively. When he felt Batman's breath on his lips, his heavy lidded eyes fluttered closed. He gasped softly as he hardened a touch, just from his breath on him. 

Gloved hands cupped his cheeks, and sweetly Superman smiled in readiness. 

He waited, and waited, but the kiss never came and he had to open his eyes again to see what was happening.

His teammate was looking at him intensely but seemingly unmoved. Clark had tried to cross the line but his best friend hadn’t met him halfway. 

His hands were still cupping his face, and only now he realised they were there to stop Clark’s overture. 

Suddenly, Clark felt embarrassed.

There was another silence between them, and Clark felt even tenser as he didn’t know what to do. Then Batman's hands dropped away from him, and his embarrassment tried to turn into ire. 

~B~

From the moment that he’d entered the meeting, or more accurately the moment Superman had met his gaze as he entered, he felt mesmerised, hungry. Clark radiated life force, and warm lust that spiked every time his best friend met his eyes. It was all he could focus on. As if it was calling to him.

The lust that he’d felt from Clark all through the meeting was still there, but it was no longer overwhelming. He wondered why that was, but at the same time he saw his jaw tensed in anger, and he knew that his friend’s anger had tempered the lust. 

He knew why he was angry, but Bruce was grateful for that anger right now. His body relaxed from being on full alert. He was grateful because it meant he could look at his friend without wanting to suck him dry.   
He’d been amazed at his own control, amazed that he hadn’t laid Clark over the table. tore his uniform and had him in front of all their teammates.

He watched Clark keep control of his emotions as always. Superman muttered tersely, “Well if everything’s fine as you said, I guess I’ll see you later.”

Then he stepped around him and headed for the door with his cape swishing, and left him standing there. 

It was like the sun disappearing, but he knew it was for the best.

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Incubus 2  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Oliver Queen  
AUTHOR: WHITEROSES77  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the stories not the characters.  
WORD COUNT: 2,829  
SUMMARY: Bruce's need is getting stronger.

~S~

After leaving the Watchtower, Superman had done a patrol of Metropolis. Flying usually brought him peace but tonight it wasn’t working. 

He alighted down on a Gothic building, and took a seat next to a gargoyle, and looked over the cityscape. His gaze found the soft golds and blazing reds of the setting sun. He noticed the moon was already out, pale and eerie. Then he watched as the sun gave spectacular way to night.

A few moments later, “I don’t envy your taste in friends, Clark.” 

Superman smirked and looked behind him, he said wryly, “And I always believed you thought highly of yourself.”

The Emerald Archer laughed, and nodded, “I do.” His friend swung his legs down and sat down next to him on the other side of the small gargoyle. He drew back his hood, and said with a cheeky smile, “But you know what I meant.”

He snorted, “I did.”

His close friend gazed at him a long moment and then asked, “So what was going on at the meeting earlier?”

Superman sighed, “Honestly, I really don’t know.” he glanced around as the electric lights of his city started to come on. “What are you doing in Metropolis?” he wondered.

Green Arrow snorted, “You trying to dodge the question?”

He mock glowered at his friend for a moment because he was kind of right. Arrow shrugged and gave way, “A little business, and a whole lot of curiosity.”

Superman smiled at the honest reply. “It’s nice not to have to wonder what someone’s thinking.”

His friend smiled in return, “So we’re back to my question, what the hell was going on with the prince of darkness today?”

“You noticed, I thought it was just me...” he uttered.

Arrow revealed, “I noticed your distraction first, then I realised what was distracting you.”

He nodded, “Like I said, I don’t know...” he huffed, “It definitely wasn’t what I thought it was about.”

His friend eyed him.

Clark cringed, licked his lips, and then admitted, “After everyone left, I thought...” he laughed hollowly, “I thought he was going to kiss me.”

Oliver’s eyes widened, “Bruce…? I knew you two had gotten close, I didn’t realise...”

He shook his head remembering, “We are really close but not… anyway I was wrong, he didn’t kiss me.”

“But you thought he might?”

The embarrassment from today returned, and he felt himself begin to blush. He admitted, “There are moments when I think…” he shook his head, “Today, it was all those moments all at once and I...”

He noticed his dear friend was looking at him softly, and Clark lowered his eyelashes bashfully. “...I wanted him to.”

Then Oliver murmured hoarsely, “Shit Clark, don’t do this to me.”

He looked up at him through his eyelashes and met his gaze. He recognised that look in his friend’s eyes. It was an old familiar look. Clark asked, “You still feel it, I didn’t know.”

“You’re reminding me why...” Oliver went to reach out to Clark’s blushing cheek, but then stopped himself.

“Shit.” Oliver groaned, and he slumped back, and laid looking up at the dusky sky above them. He grumbled, “You’re talking about wanting to kiss Bruce Wayne, and I’m getting a hard on.”

Clark took a deep breath, and murmured, “It’s been a long time, Oliver.”

“Yeah I know.” he smirked, “It’s alright Clark, it’ll be gone in a minute.”

Clark laughed, and he lay down on his side, leaning on his crooked elbow. He straightened his red cape out absently. “That’s what I always liked about you, about us; we could have fun without the...”

“Heavy shit.” Oliver finished for him.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

Oliver swallowed tightly and said, “With Bruce it will always be heavy shit, Clark.”

Clark licked his dry lips, “That was something that I was willing to bear to have...” he took a breath and admitted, “A part of me...” Oliver met his gaze, and Clark continued, “...wants it that intense.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you couldn’t handle him but I know you could.”

They gazed at each other, and then Clark murmured, “But he doesn’t want me.”

“After what you just told me, and the way he was looking at you today, I don’t know about that, Clark.” 

“Okay then, he won’t do anything about it.” he amended.

Comfortingly, Oliver reached out and ran his hand over Clark’s blue clothed bicep. It felt really nice. Then Oliver murmured, “His loss.”

That aroused murmur was familiar too, and Clark's gaze strayed to Green Arrow’s crotch. You couldn’t tell in his uniform, so he asked, “Are you still stiff?”

With a taunting eyebrow, Oliver said, “It won’t go away if you start talking about it, Boyscout.”

He asked softly, “What if I don’t want it to go away.”

Oliver's eyes widened, and Clark leaned in, and unlike this afternoon, he didn’t have to worry, because a moment later, his friend’s lips met his. 

It had been a long time since they’d kissed but the kiss was all familiarity and ease, and it was still really good. With the last light of the day highlighting them both, Oliver pressed him back against the rooftop, as his tongue explored Clark’s mouth.

Oliver’s fingers threaded through Clark’s black hair, and he moaned into his mouth. His hands ran over the leather of his uniform, and he cupped his pert green leather clad ass. He felt Oliver hard against him, just before his friend pulled back and whispered against his moist lips, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Don’t you?” he asked gazing up at him searchingly.

Oliver pressed himself firmly to him, showing him the proof, “You know I do, but… what about Bruce?”

With a raised taunting eyebrow, “Are you scared of him?” he half teased.

An arrogant smirk came to Green Arrow’s lips, “No, of course not.”

Clark grinned, “Are you sure?”

Oliver pursed his lips, and goaded, “You think your boyfriend is tough, huh?”

His breath shuddered through him, “Don’t… call him… that.”

Seeing his turmoil, his friend’s brow creased, “Sorry...” he leaned in and kissed his lips, “Sorry, Boyscout.”

Clark kissed him back. 

Oliver groaned, “You’re sure?”

“No heavy shit?” Clark pleaded.

Oliver whispered, “No heavy shit, I promise.”

~B~ 

It was a few hours later, and night had closed in, and Bruce was in the cave. He had the urge to blow off patrolling, and find a way to satisfy his new found need. He chided himself, he’d never let anything get in the way of his mission, and he wasn’t going to start now. 

He’d go out and patrol and then he would call on one of the women of his acquaintance, any of them would do, none of them was likely to turn him down. His playboy persona was finally going to be useful.

After he’d suited up, but before he’d put his cowl on, there was a breeze in the cave. You’d think it was an oddity but that breeze had become familiar and welcome down in the cave. He just wasn’t happy to feel it right now.

He turned and met pretty eyes that were a little wary. Then Superman found a smile from wherever he kept his supply of them. “Hi.”

He stared at him, and noticed his hair was wet, and then said stoically, “Hi.”

His friend nodded along mutely, and then shrugged, “I’m sorry about that today.”

Bruce knew exactly what he was talking about but he denied, “Nothing happened today to apologize for Clark.”

Tension came to Clark’s jaw, but then he explained, “You had something on your mind and I… I was a little terse, just because I felt…” He swallowed hard cutting himself off. Then he rallied himself, “It was a blip and we should just forget it.”

Clark had stopped radiating lust, Bruce didn’t know why but it was a relief. Bruce gave him a small smile, “Okay, we’ll forget.”

A look of disappointment flashed over Clark’s face before it was replaced with a tight smile, “Okay… so are you busy, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Just going out on patrol.” 

Bruce was eager to get away from him and find someone else to work out that tension on. He couldn’t have him the way he wanted, yet he was determined to keep him as his friend. Though it would be tormenting, he asked, “Do you want to come?”

“Sure.” his friend agreed.

~*~

A few nights later

She whimpered his name, and her nails dug into his back as she came for him for a third time. He grasped her wrists and pinned them to the bed. The last thing he needed was more scars on his back. He thrust into her soft willing body until he came quietly.

He rolled off her, and lay back panting at the ceiling. His body felt alive and singing with energy. It had been good but he knew it was only temporary relief. Just as all the other women he’d slept with lately.

Her life force and her lust were a pale thing in comparison to what he’d felt days earlier; like a campfire instead of the glory of the sun.

Her lust had been sated, and her voluptuous body heaved as she took in breaths, drained, but the sight of it was nothing compared to the vision of those pretty aquamarine eyes disappearing behind heavy eyelids and long dark eyelashes and those soft lips closing in.

He grimaced and got rid of the condom.

He had sensed his friend’s lust but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to feed off it, to drain him like he’d just drained her, like he’d drained the others. Clark meant more to him than that.

Because of Bruce’s rejection, Clark's lust was no longer an overwhelming thing, but it was a constant thing and even now it called to him through the night. 

~S~

At Oliver’s Metropolis penthouse, Clark waited for his friend. He’d gotten changed and made it there before him. That was the thing about superspeed, he always had to wait for everyone else to catch up. Oliver had explained to him the other day that he had a business meeting tomorrow so he’d decided to stay over in Metropolis for a few nights.

Clark sat on the couch, and thumbed through the newspaper that he worked for. He wasn’t one for gossip, but now he was staring at the article in the society section. There wasn’t much to read, the photos told the story, as well as the caption. He read it out, “The Prince of Gotham holds court.”

The photos showed Bruce in the company of woman after woman, night after night, two in the last night. A voice behind him asked, “Do you think he’s trying to prove something?”

Clark snorted his reply, “To me or himself?”

He turned and saw Green Arrow behind him. He raised an eyebrow, “You know you don’t have to patrol Metropolis any more not when you’re only visiting.”

Green Arrow spread his muscled arms wide, “You know me Clark, I can’t help myself.”

A grin came to Clark’s face, “Oh I know that, Arrow.”

He stood up and approached his friend. Oliver's gloved hands were already reaching for him. Clark chuckled and walked into his embrace. They both groaned into the kiss. Then Oliver mumbled, “You want to help me get out of my uniform?”

Clark smiled into the kiss, “The normal way or...”

“The easiest way possible, Boyscout.” his friend hummed.

~B~

In the early hours of the morning, from the shadows of the dark winter night, stillness had took over the bedroom, and he watched the two men settled under the sheets.

Now Bruce had seen proof that Clark was releasing some sexual tension. But that didn’t mean Bruce wasn’t still drawn to him. It was actually getting worse, the women he’d used hadn’t met his need, only delayed it, like having a snack instead of a full meal. That’s how he’d found him here, in another man’s bed.

Clark had redirected some of his lust. The evidence made him equal parts jealous and aroused.

Then he moved out of the shadows towards the bed.

For the first time, he reached out, and he caressed the skin of his back that he knew was golden but looked silver in the dusky light. Clark sighed into the pillow at the touch. 

His hand slipped under the sheet, and as his palm caressed soft skin and muscled flesh, he drew the sheet away. His nostrils flared seeing and touching that uncovered flesh. Clark was so beautiful and masculine at the same time. He’d always thought so but now he was seeing proof that he’d been right all along.

His hand travelled down his strong thigh, and then up again between his legs, his fingertips caressing. 

At his intimate touch, instinctively Clark’s body arched for it. Bruce's hand followed that arch over his lovely curved ass cheeks, along the small of his back, and along the indent of his spine, up between his shoulder blades. 

Clark moaned, and his body rubbed against the sheet covered mattress. 

Just feeling him felt amazing. Then Bruce reversed the order and caressed his way back down the sun fed skin, until his touch teased Clark’s hips to rise. His hand caressed and measure the round globe of his ass cheek, over and over. His thumb sliding into the small of his back.

Then he let his thumb follow the valley of his cheeks, his trail went further and his thumb encountered and traced his perineum. 

Clark made a soft sound at his touch, a gasp of air. The desire and lust flared and it leapt out from Clark, it was enticing. Then Bruce leaned over and he pressed his mouth into that valley of flesh, and licked him.

“God.” Clark murmured into the pillow, “Please.”

Reflexively, Clark spread his legs, and upturned his ass more. His friend’s compliance set off a whirlwind of emotions inside him, still lust, more jealousy, anger now, and love.

It didn’t matter about the other man, their friend laying asleep next to him. He pressed his thumb against the damp entrance. Clark whined softly into the pillow, and his life force was like a magnet, and the force of it overwhelmed Bruce. He knelt down next to the bed and the gorgeous body on it, half braced over him, and pressed his thumb into him.

As Bruce licked and kissed a trail up his back from his thrusting thumb, Clark hissed and moaned at every touch of his lips and tongue and every thrust of his thumb into the heat of him. Bruce smelled Oliver's scent all over him. He planned to replace it with his own. 

This was his, Clark was his, his body, his lust, and the life-force was his for the taking. He couldn’t help himself, he returned his mouth to that damp hole and he licked again and again, tasting and eating him. 

Then Clark whined plaintively, “Please, Bruce.” and pressed back for him.

The sound was loud enough to stir Oliver from sleep. With his heart beating rapidly, Bruce breathed slowly and returned to the shadows.

Oliver asked groggily into the night, “Okay…?”

Clark panted softly, “God yes.” 

Oliver lifted up and looked down into his passion filled face, “Shit, Clark you’re doing it again.”

Then Clark groaned and reached for Oliver and pulled him into a deep sensual kiss. Oliver groaned in echo, his desire reawakened, and he pressed Clark back into the mattress. He reached between them and Clark moaned as Oliver’s hand encircled his wonderfully aroused length.

In preternatural stillness, Bruce watched them move together until panting breaths evened out again, and they drowsed for a while. 

~*~

The blond woke first, squinted at the clock and then leaned over and whispered, “I’m heading out for that meeting.”

A sleep muffled voice replied, “Early…?”

Oliver Queen chuckled, “Yeah. Go back to sleep, Boyscout and I’ll see you later.”

He leaned in and kissed him, and then slipped out of bed naked. As the blond busied himself getting showered and dressed, Bruce’s gaze stayed on the masculine figure half under the sheets, where it had been for hours, hours waiting for this, his whole life waiting for this. He felt ravenous.

A dapper business suited Oliver Queen left the apartment. When the door closed, and the place was empty except for the two of them, Bruce approached the bed again. This time there was not going to be any interruptions; he wasn’t going to pave the way so that Oliver Queen could enjoy the spoils of his efforts again.

He was finally taking what was his.

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Incubus 3  
PAIRING: CLARK KENT/BRUCE WAYNE  
AUTHOR: WHITEROSES77  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the stories not the characters.  
WORD COUNT: 3,023  
SUMMARY: Clark is determined to help Bruce.

~B~

He slipped the sheet completely off, and then he crawled onto the bed. As he braced himself and covered Clark’s back, his crotch pressed against the valley of his friend’s ass. 

Clark groaned as he felt it rest there, hard, heavy and trapped. The drowsy man inhaled deeply and groaned sleepily and reflexively, Clark spread his legs.

In echo, Bruce's chest heaved as he drew in a breath as his cock pressed against his zipper. His need overcame his sense of right and wrong, and slowly, he thrust his trapped erection against his best friend’s ass.

“God.” Clark cried out as Bruce mouthed the back of his neck hungrily, his teeth tasting flesh. Then he kissed him tenderly between the shoulder blades. 

He pulled back, until he was kneeling up between his friend’s thighs. He caught Clark's hips, and he massaged and spread his ass cheeks to see where he had kissed earlier. 

As his ass was upturned, Clark groaned quietly into the pillow, and rumbled, “If you want to do it, please do it but stop teasing me to death.”

His energy, his life force and lust pulsed in the bedroom, and Bruce reached for his fly and unzipped. The sound of it, sounded loud in the bedroom. Clark heard it, and obviously he recognised the sound of it, because his arm flailed under the pillow and he came up with a tube of lube. He blindly offered it behind him.

Bruce swallowed hard and took the tube. 

He’d been hard most of the night, and now he slicked his throbbing cock. Then with his slick finger, he pressed in where his thumb had been an hour earlier. Clark made a soft overwhelmed sound.

As he lined up and entered him, Clark whined, and breathed the words, “My god, yes.” into the pillow.

With teeth gritted as heat and tightness surrounded him, and clung to him, Bruce stilled. It felt as good inside him as he always thought it would be. 

His cock throbbed inside his best friend to the rhythm of his own heartbeat.

At his stillness, Clark growled impatiently and pushed himself up to his elbows, and spread his legs wider. His cock hung hard between his thighs. The sight was glorious.

There was no movement for aeons, then Clark panted, “Don’t stop, Bruce please don’t stop.” 

Bruce stared at the back of his friend’s tousled head. He was in shock, or was that shocked to his senses, at the sound of his name uttered from those pretty lips. He thought he was going to wake up any second, it felt surreal. He’d said his name earlier in the dark but he’d hadn’t believed it.

He still didn’t move, and Clark growled, “Bruce, you can’t stop now...” 

His best friend had slept with another man and woken up in his bed, yet Clark knew it was him, Bruce couldn’t believe it. He asked gravelly.“You really knew?” 

His voice seemed out of place here and now.

“Knew what?” Clark asked in confusion, as his body twitched around Bruce's cock, that was still throbbing so intimately inside him.

“That it was me… and not Oliver.” he explained.

At the question, Clark pulled free, and slipped off him, it made Bruce tremor and gasp with pleasure.

Clark turned his upper body over. His friend gazed up at him from the mattress, tousled haired, flushed and beautiful and still panting a little, “Of course, I knew it was you...” 

With intense desire, Clark's eyes found Bruce’s cock, that was rock hard and glistening with pre-come. Clark licked his lips, he said distractedly, “I can sense when you’re with me, Bruce. I know your heartbeat, I know your scent...” he tore his gaze away from his cock and met his gaze with earnest eyes, “...and now I know your touch, and how your body feels.”

“You’re not mad at me?” he asked in confusion.

His best friend said wryly, “It’s not usual, and maybe if I hadn’t have known, I might be, but I never expected you to be.”

He stared down at Clark, nude, and hard against the sheets. The lust was still pouring off him, and now he knew that lust was for him. Bruce couldn’t contain his own need or deny Clark’s. 

Bruce unbuttoned his own shirt and slipped it off his muscled shoulders. His hands went to his waistband, he stood up on the mattress and he let his pants fall and he stepped out of them. 

His cock was still hard and throbbing as he dropped naked to his knees onto the bed. Then he reached down with one hand and with his cock he found his friend’s centre again, and took him again.

Clark moaned and spread his knees against the mattress and arched his throat in pleasure. Bruce took the offering carefully, kissing and sucking. Because he was still half turned, Bruce could kiss down to his broad chest, and then up to his soft lips. 

It was their first kiss and he wallowed in it. He took slow mouthfuls of that sumptuous mouth. Clark opened his mouth for him, and met his tongue licking and sucking it slowly. They hummed and growled into the wet kiss. 

His cock flexed in his friend’s ass, and Bruce was afraid he’d come just from kissing him and being held so snugly inside that tight heat. He tore his mouth away gasping.

Clark held his gaze intensely.

Then Bruce pulled back, knelt up and guided Clark with him until Clark was back in the position he’d started, braced on his elbows and knees. His glorious ass presented for him.

Bruce withdrew and then pushed back inside. He watched mesmerized as Clark pressed back for him, wanting more of him, and crying out again, as Bruce slowly took him all the way to the hilt. 

His instinct was to thrust hard and fast, take out all his swirling emotions on him. Pay him back for laying under another man. 

Yet he didn’t have any room to talk, he’d fucked his way around Gotham so he could deny his greatest desire, and even the last three nights he’d gone to someone else to satisfy this need. He’d done it just so he wouldn’t do this, so he wouldn’t use and prey upon his best friend. 

But of those emotions he was feeling, one emotion was more crucial and overrode the others. 

He’d waited and wanted this for so long, and he took him slowly and with care, joining them and moving together. He made Clark whimper and tremble for him. He trembled for him in return, as he throbbed and flexed inside him, making them slick with his pre-come.

Sweat pearled on his skin and dripped from him. 

Finally, Clark pushed himself fully onto his hands, his biceps, shoulders and back rippling as he moved and then he pressed back harder and needy. Bruce wiped his sweaty brow, and then he ran his hands over Clark’s body, sculpting and worshipping him and rubbing his own sweat into his immaculate flesh.

Clark panted for him and it was amazing to hear. Clark blindly reached back to grab Bruce’s hand, and guide his hand under him to his twitching cock. With need, he begged, “Please.”

Instead, Bruce grasped his wrist, and then the other one, and pulled them behind his back, pulling him all the way onto his cock. 

In response, Clark cried with frustration and pleasure, “Bruce!”

His super-strong friend let him hold him, let him control him, and Bruce rolled his hips, and with fluidity, he thrust into him. And Bruce grinned wildly.

His friend cried, “Please, Bruce I need...”

Bruce released him, and Clark fell forward onto the mattress. Clark groaned and turned over and gazed up at him panting. Bruce lunged down and he took that panting mouth. He slid in between Clark’s thighs and Clark growled into his mouth as he entered him again. 

Bruce’s mouth slid away and he quickened his thrusts striving to give them release.

“Bruce.” was breathed into his ear over and over.

He remembered what his friend had begged for and Bruce made a fist around Clark's gloriously hard cock and stroked it.

He felt the life force rush through Clark’s body, and as his friend came to orgasm, Bruce fed on it, absorbed the energy of it. The force of it was like nothing he had felt before, and it racked his body, bent his back and made his own orgasm last and last.

As wet warmth spread between their moving bodies. He was a panting mess when he finished, but it was a glorious, incredible mess as he slumped over Clark’s sated body 

He was almost overcome with the power and pleasure, it was like bathing in the sun but he had enough sense to remember his friend’s safety. He pushed himself up, and gaze down at Clark. 

He was still and quiet, and Bruce’s heart stopped for a second. 

Then Clark groaned, and opened his eyes, stared up at him and hummed with contentment.

Bruce was flooded with the feeling of renewed lust and awe and relief that Clark’s life force was just as strong as before. 

Clark’s face was bright with joy, he reached up and caressed Bruce’s sweaty face, and then brought him down and he kissed him and Bruce laughed into his mouth.

~S~

It was probably the definition of insulting, but after showering and dressing, after making love in another man’s bed, now they were drinking coffee in Oliver’s kitchen.

The atmosphere between them was a strange mix of normal for them and edginess. Clark adjusted his glasses that he’d slipped on habitually and asked, “Is your coffee all right, Oliver only had skimmed milk, and I know you like cream.”

His friend grumbled against the lip of his cup, “It’ll do.”

Clark smiled, and nodded. He drank a mouthful of his own coffee, and then he broached the subject, “Do you want to tell me what’s been going on with you lately?”

Bruce met his gaze but didn’t reply.

Clark snorted, “Even after what we just did, you’re not going to tell me.”

His friend glanced around the kitchen of the penthouse of another friend. “I honestly didn’t think I’d find you here.”

He licked his lips and asked, “You were trying to find me?” Bruce just stared at him, and he knew he was waiting for the answer to his own question. Clark sighed, “We’re just fooling around, I just needed a break from...”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, “From me?”

He swallowed hard, “No, just the waiting around, waiting for...” his gaze found the stairs that led up to the bedroom. It had been just as incredibly intense as he always thought being with Bruce would be. “And now you come to me.”

Bruce closed his eyes, and then uttered, “Something happened to me four nights ago.”

“What happened?” he asked worriedly.

“I don’t know.” he watched him reach for his neck subconsciously. “Ever since, I’ve felt a hunger...” he licked his lips, “I can sense when someone is attracted to me. It’s a turn on and it’s a need, and I’ve been getting a high from making people – women come.”

It was almost a joke without a punchline. A man like Bruce knowing people wanted him, and getting satisfaction from bedding them, it was just his life wasn’t it. But Clark knew from his friend’s turmoil it was more than that.

He remembered Bruce coming to him, touching him in the dark. Clark asked, “That’s why you came here, did this here, to feed this thing?”

Bruce grimaced, and shook his head, “Damn it, no. Why do you think... I’ve tried staying away from you...” he met his gaze intensely, “I know how much you want me, Clark. You almost glow with it. I didn’t want to reduce what we have to... food.”

Clark's heart vibrated in his chest at the declaration. It thrilled him to hear Bruce acknowledge them but it was also scary hearing Bruce talk about people, desire and sex as food. 

He realised, “That’s why you’ve been reaffirming your status as the Casanova of Gotham. You’ve been feeding this thing.”

Bruce shook his head and sighed, “No, that was something else.”

“You were hiding from me?” he asked.

“Yeah.” he confessed.

He swallowed hard at the admission, but he ignored it and returned to the problem at hand. “You said food, you’re not… a vampire?” he wanted to laugh at his own question but he didn’t.

And neither did Bruce, “Not in a traditional sense, no.”

He followed his gaze to the bright morning light now coming in from the windows. It was confirmation that the daylight didn’t affect him.

“So what are you feeding off?” Clark asked.

His friend shook his head, “I don’t know exactly, energy, life force...”

“But you haven’t killed...” he asked fearfully.

“Of course not… they’re just been too fatigued to do much afterwards, maybe even for days. I've tried to be careful.”

Clark nodded along, then he asked, “Did you feed off of me?”

“I didn’t want to, but yes.” he confirmed.

He didn’t know how to feel about that until Bruce added, “It was tremendous, much better than with anyone else.”

“The sex or the feeding?” he wondered.

Bruce locked gazes with him and growled softly, “Both.”

That confirmation made him a little breathless. He swallowed hard, “I didn’t… don’t feel drained.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I sense your life force like I can sense your lust. It’s so strong that it’s intoxicating.”

Clark took a deep breath and offered, “Then you can feed off me, you don’t need anyone else.”

“No.” Bruce denied.

“Just until we figure out what happened to you.” he reassured.

“No, Clark.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because I love you too much to use you like that.”

Clark stared at his best friend with his heart soaring at the unexpected but wholly welcome sentiment. Clark reached out and pulled Bruce into his embrace, and covered his mouth with his. 

Bruce cupped his head but unlike the other day, he didn’t hold back, he returned Clark’s kiss. He felt Bruce's body heave in his arms, and then Bruce opened his mouth and welcomed him inside.

Clark moaned into his mouth and slipped his tongue inside, and Bruce met him with his. His friend’s hands tightened their hold on his head, and Clark pulled their bodies closer together.

It didn’t matter that they’d just gotten out of bed, he knew if they continued they’d be back there, or just down on the floor, right here right now. 

Just as he’d had the thought, Bruce ripped his mouth away. They were still forehead to forehead as he panted harshly, “God, Clark it’s too much, you’re too much.”

He whispered back, “Do you want to eat me?”

Bruce’s eyes became drowsy, “Yes, my god, yes.”

Clark leaned in, and licked across Bruce’s kiss bruised lips, and told him, “I want you to. Please.”

“I can’t, I don’t want to hurt you.” he said hoarsely.

“You didn’t hurt me before.” 

“No.”

Clark took a fortifying breath, “You’re not going to anyone else. I won’t let you.” He told him determinedly, “I can’t not now, not after being with you.”

Bruce gazed at him intensely, and then swallowed hard, “I believe you.”

“Good.” he said, “Now let’s figure out what happened to you.”

~B~

They had gone to the cave, Clark was right, he couldn’t let this thing continue. It was only his need and pleasure that had taken his focus away from figuring it all out. It had been less that a week, but already it had disrupted his life. 

He glanced over at his friend; it had made him cross the line that he’d been dancing around in front of for quite some time. He didn’t know if he was grateful for that or not, not quite yet.

As they entered the laboratory area, Clark asked, “So do you want to tell me exactly what happened?”

A feeling of discomfort tried to take over Bruce, however if he couldn’t tell Clark the truth who could he tell. Who could understand more than the man that his new senses told him wanted him as much as he wanted him. 

He’d already known Clark cared, and he knew they were both aware of their mutual attraction, but it wasn’t until a few days ago that he’d found out how patient and how needy his best friend had been.

He went and got a new syringe still in it’s packet. He studied it for a moment, and then he began. “It’s difficult to explain, I’m not sure how it happened, what it was...”

“What it was?” Clark questioned.

Then Bruce lifted the syringe packet up, “Let’s get this over with.”

His friend reached out and took the packet off him. Then he took a step back, and then he removed his black framed glasses and then squinted at him. Bruce realised what he was doing, he was x-raying, and using his microscopic vision on him. 

Normally, he liked to do the work himself, trusted his own judgement above all others. However, he did trust Clark, and knew Clark was as skilful with his own powers as Bruce was with a microscope.

After a moment of study, he saw Clark’s pupil adjust, going from tiny to full and wide, before he blinked and met his gaze normally. Clark frowned and then revealed, “There is a pathogen in your blood, but it’s not one I can recognise.”

Bruce nodded, “I should have a look myself.”

Clark's eyes widened and he harrumphed, “Bruce, for my training I memorized all known Earthbound pathogens. If I don’t recognise it...”

He shrugged disarmingly and finished, “I couldn’t either.”

Clark smiled at his acquiescence, and slipped his black framed glasses back on. 

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Incubus 4  
PAIRING: CLARK KENT/BRUCE WAYNE  
AUTHOR: WHITEROSES77  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the stories not the characters.  
WORD COUNT: 3,107  
SUMMARY: Clark helps Bruce with his problem.

~B~

Clark licked his lips, and asked, “So how did a pathogen end up inside you?”

With slight nerves, Bruce told him, “The only thing I know for sure is that I woke up with...” he touched his neck. “...this.”

Clark approached, and he reached out and caressed the sensitive skin at his throat, “Is this a bite?”

Bruce’s nostrils flared at his touch there, and the memory of how it got there. He said gravelly, “Maybe.”

“Maybe…?”

“He bit me, but I’m not sure it was...”

“He...?” Clark demanded.

He heard the jealousy and possessiveness in his tone, and it thrilled him. The energy beat against his body lustful and burning. “I don’t know if he was real or a symptom of...”

Clark stepped closer, and asked again, “He...?”

Bruce’s body reacted, and he breathed heavily, “He was dark and seductive, and he fucked me before he bit me.”

Clark almost glowered at him. “You let someone fuck you?” 

He heard the unspoken end of that sentence, ‘...who wasn’t me.’ He gazed at his lips hungrily, “I woke up in my bed alone.”

“You took him to your bed, here, upstairs?” he almost snarled.

It was as if Clark was territorial of his home, his bed, as if Bruce’s private places were only for him. It wasn’t a crazy idea because he wanted Clark in those private places, only Clark. He denied, “No.”

“So where did he fuck you?” he asked with derision.

“Against a wall.” he admitted.

“You let a stranger fuck you against a wall.” Clark asked with quiet menace.

He tried to defend, “I don’t think it was real. I think it might’ve been a hallucination.” he leaned towards those soft sublime lips, “He was too magnificent to be real.”

“You still want him, even now?” he asked.

He groaned, “Yes.” and then closed the gap and kissed those lips.

Immensely strong hands cupped his head, and pulled him away and held him there and behind his black framed lenses his eyes flared amber with red lightening dancing in them.“I thought you didn’t want to hurt me. Talking about him this way is hurting me.” Clark grated out.

His intensity was making Bruce rock hard. “No.” Bruce growled, “He was you, god Clark, he was you.”

Those blazing eyes blinked, and sea water washed away the fire in his eyes. Ocean depths looked into his eyes, as he asked, “Me…?”

He nodded, “That’s why I think it wasn’t real.”

“But it was real enough that it infected you.” Clark reminded him.

“Yeah.” he agreed.

“So the options are, you met someone who looked like me...”

“Or made himself look like you.”

Clark nodded, “Because I’m enough to tempt you.”

“Always.” he said simply.

His friend swallowed hard at that fact. “Or something came into your bedroom and...” he caressed the bruise, “...infected you, and you hallucinated the encounter. Your own mind...”

“...found you in there and played out what I wanted to happen so badly.”

Clark leaned in and whispered, “I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long.”

Their lips came together heatedly, and then slipped away. “What do I do now, what do you suggest?”

“A visit to my Fortress, Jor-El has the best chance to know what the pathogen is, if it’s just biological or mystical and if it’s biological the knowledge to develop a therapy to neutralize it.”

He was right, it was the best solution, and if the Fortress couldn’t help then there would be a problem, and they’d have to turn to someone with a magical background, but he would only start worrying if that really was the case.

He told his friend, “Okay, you’re right.”

Clark’s pretty eyes widened, “I’m right?”

Bruce laughed, and he wrapped his arms around his waist. As he came into his embrace, the lust and life force flared again, and Bruce murmured, “You’re so yummy.”

His friend’s arms wrapped around him in returned, and he asked, “I wish I could sense what you can sense.”

Bruce said raspily, “If we were both like this, we wouldn’t be going to the Fortress of Solitude, you’d be in my bed right now.”

Where Clark’s body touch him, it felt like static electricity and something runny like warm honey gliding inside his skin. He knew from the sensation what Clark was feeling before he gave the feeling words. He said with wonderful earnestness, “I want to be there, I want to be in your bed so much.”

Bruce’s chest heaved.

~S~

They hit the bed together, eating each other’s mouths like starving men. Bruce pressed him into the mattress, and Clark’s hands grasped at him, too eager to be tender.

His friend’s lips kissed his jaw, as his fingers hurriedly unbuttoned Clark's shirt, and spread the material. He arched into the soft mattress, as Bruce's sweet mouth continued down and took slow, hungry sucking mouthfuls of his flesh and muscle. It was exquisite pressure.

Laying over him, his gorgeous face inches away, Bruce's hands reached for Clark’s belt buckle and unfastened it, sliding the leather from the buckle, and then sliding the belt out of the loops completely, so it was out of the way. With fascination, Clark watched down his own body, and admitted breathily, “I’ve always wanted you to do that.”

His friend glanced up and met his gaze, he said lowly, “I’ve always wanted you sound like that for me.”

He finished what he was doing, and Clark's hard cock sprang out. Bruce grabbed his waistband and dragged his jeans out from under him and down his legs and off. As soon as that was done, Clark reached for Bruce's shirt and then pulled it from his strong shoulders. 

When it was gone, Clark turned them over on the bed. Kneeling on the mattress, he released his friend and pulled his pants off too. While he was at it, he pulled his own open shirt from his shoulders and tossed it off the bed. Then naked, he gazed down at the man under him, the man that meant so much to him. 

Bruce gazed up at him, with a look on his face that Clark had caught a glimpse of many times, the look that let him know that his friend was more than his friend. That the man was almost his, if he’d only let it happen. 

Now here they were.

Bruce reached up, and he caressed his face, “The look on your face… my god.”

Clark smiled down at him, and then braced himself over him, and kissed him. 

Bruce moaned into his mouth, and then they were moving again. Bruce was braced over him again, and he continued his path from before, and then he reached Clark’s cock and slowly and intently he licked the length of it. It flexed for him, and pre-come gathered. 

Clark moaned in echo as Bruce groaned against his hard flesh. 

Then he went lower, and Clark spread his thighs, and luxuriated in his mouth. His hands found Bruce’s dark head and his fingers threaded through his hair. 

He groaned and sighed in pleasure, until Bruce pulled away with his flushed face and his eyes wild. Bruce held his gaze, and then he turned his head and then his mouth opened and then closed around the flesh of Clark’s inner thigh. It was just over the femoral artery, and knowing Bruce had been infected by something that mimicked vampirism would’ve made Clark nervous in the moment if it wasn’t for his own invulnerability. 

Bruce’s teeth tugged on his flesh for moment and then he pulled back and grinned at him wickedly. Clark returned that smile and murmured, “Tease.”

His lover moved up his body until his lips were in reach and then they both closed the gap. They kissed deeply, and then Clark turned them over, and he trailed kisses over Bruce's lovely muscular but interesting torso. As he licked along the sensitive skin of one of the bigger scars, Bruce’s hands clutched Clark’s head, as he panted heavily.

Then Clark reached and licked at the leaking head of his lover’s cock and hummed at the taste of him. Bruce whispered, “Yes, Clark.”

Clark met and held his gaze, he engulfed his lover’s cock until his nose met the skin of Bruce's belly. Bruce gasped almost silently. Then blindly, Clark reached for Bruce's legs, and he spread his thighs open. Bruce let out a rumbling whimper in response. 

Clark sucked his way off slowly and purposefully. 

As his mouth left him, he guided Bruce’s legs even further open, and watched Bruce's eyes flare. Still holding his gaze, Clark licked against him.

Bruce gasped, “What are you doing?”

Clark breathed against him, “You gave it to him.”

“Him… you...”

“Exactly.” he said seriously, “You want me to fuck you, fuck you like you fucked me earlier today.”

He didn’t wait for him to reply, he returned to his centre and opened it with his tongue with slow voraciousness. Bruce squirmed, and tried to move and Clark pressed Bruce's legs further, until his knees met his muscled chest.

Bruce whined, “Clark.” 

Clark met his gaze over his body, and he saw desire and wanting in those eyes. Clark murmured against his wet yielding hole, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

Bruce's eyes were wide and untamed, but he held his tongue, and didn’t deny him or himself. 

Clark smiled fiercely, licked him again before he moved up, and he rubbed his erection against that ass that was upturned and needy. He breathed deeply, and then he spread Bruce's legs out, so he could look at his torso, and admire the tense muscles there, while keeping him open. 

His cock head rubbed over that entrance, and Bruce growled, “Yes, do it, do it.”

Clark had no intention of denying himself any longer, he spat against him, and he lined up and he pressed in, and he pushed his way inside that yielding but incredibly tight hole. Bruce gasped, and his jaw, and chest tensed as Clark sank inside him. Clark’s eyes rolled back in undiluted pleasure. To be inside Bruce Wayne finally was the summit of ecstasy.

Bruce’s hands flailed and then slid over Clark’s thighs and then grasped his ass, “Yes, Clark. Fuck yes.”

With that encouragement, Clark opened his eyes, and stared into his friend’s eyes, and began thrusting, slow, all the way in, and then all the way out, again and again until Bruce was completely open and taking him easy.

With the same intensity as the other day during the Justice League meeting his lover watched him keenly, panting as he watched Clark fuck him.

The pleasure began building to frantic levels, and Clark's thrusts quickened. As he got faster, Bruce’s breaths got harsher, and little mews escaped him, and it was music to Clark’s ears. 

He let go of Bruce's legs, and he covered his body with his skin to skin. Bruce's now free legs cradled him as he moved between his legs. He caressed one of his thighs and he kissed his panting mouth, “Are you feeling good, baby?”

Bruce's hands grasped his back, and then back down to his ass. He grunted softly, “Super.”

Clark laughed with pride and humour. At his little distraction, Bruce took the opportunity, and he turned them over again. They didn’t lose contact so he was still throbbing inside his lover as his athletic lover sat straddling him. 

His hands caught Bruce's hips, and caressed him with his thumbs, “You look amazing like this.”

Tousled haired, flushed and kiss bruised lips and sparkling eyes gazed down at him. Then Bruce took Clark’s hands from his hips, and he pulled them up, and pinned them against the pillows.

Clark licked his lips, and let himself be pinned to the bed. Then Bruce began to move, and Clark would’ve done anything he wanted in that moment. 

His lover rode his cock, slowly at first, and then his rhythm quickened, and with that change it got harder and they both grunted, growled and panted quietly. 

He arched into the mattress and his hips bucked as he met him over and over. He watched as Bruce’s glorious length that had been inside him today bounced and hit his belly over and over. 

Then his view was blocked when Bruce leaned over and found his mouth and kissed him wet and eager. Then it was too late, his cock was wet and eager as he cried into Bruce's mouth as he came inside him. Moments later, his chest was flooded as Bruce shot come over him as he continued to ride his cock hard wringing every second of pleasure out it. 

Then he heard and felt Bruce growl against his neck, “Clark.”

And then Clark felt teeth sink into his throat, and in shock, he screamed.

~B~

Blood was in his mouth as he came to his senses. His body shook with the stolen energy, and the aftershocks of his orgasm. He gazed down in horror, the man who’s body he was still connected to laid with his throat ripped open, his body was still, so so still. 

For an eternity, he gazed down, seeing what he’d done, and not knowing what to do now, mesmerised by the blood. 

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened with a bang, and Alfred was there. “I heard a scream.” 

He was panting from running up the flights of stairs. His eyes wildly took in the scene before him. He saw him in such an intimate position and he asked cautiously, “Master Bruce?”

Bruce's eyes were wide and scared in return.

His guardian eyes found his bloodied mouth and then Alfred's gaze found Clark’s bloodied body on the bed, “What the bloody hell have you done?” Alfred demanded.

Suddenly, adrenaline coursed through him, he shook his head mutely, he didn’t have time to explain. He scrambled off him. Then he rushed to the French windows and he opened them wide.

There was faint light that hit the bed highlighting the blood, but he didn’t have time for it to work.

He returned to the bed, and he used brute strength to lift Clark into his arms and he stumbled to the balcony with his dead-weight. Then he collapsed with him in his arms, the direct solar energy haloing them. 

He held him close, and prayed, “Please come back, I’m sorry, please come back.”

Warily, Alfred came onto the balcony, and gazed down with horror in his eyes, not knowing how any of this could be happening but knowing it was.

Bruce cried, “I can’t believe I’ve done this. His life-force was so strong, it called to me.” he tried to explain, “I needed to get to it.”

He remembered the other night, how he’d been infected, bitten. But it wasn’t like this. Tears came to his eyes, as powerful emotions came to the fore, no longer bombarded by lust and hunger for Clark’s life-force.

He hugged him tightly, and whispered, “Please don’t leave me.”

There was a choking gasp, and then those amazing eyes opened and looked up into his face. 

It made his guardian startle.

With joy, Bruce beseeched, “Clark.”

Clark lifted his arm, and touched Bruce's bloody mouth with his fingertips, and asked hoarsely, “Did you bite me?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, forgive me.”

He lifted his hand further and cupped Bruce's neck and he drew him down to him, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh.” Alfred’s eyes widened with surprise at the confession they’d made. “Well it’s about time.”

Clark frowned, he followed his gaze and saw Alfred there. He swallowed nervously.

Now that the overpowering lust and need had died, he looked down into his lover’s face, and only felt great love with the shadow of despair of what could have happened. He gazed up at Alfred, and he realised, “I think it’s gone. I feel normal again.”

Pushing embarrassment aside, Clark pulled away and sat up covered in blood and come. Then he squinted at Bruce, using his X-ray and microscopic vision again.

Then Clark’s eyes widened and he nodded, “You’re right, the pathogen is gone.”

“Pathogen?” Alfred asked.

Bruce revealed, “I was infected by a pathogen that mimicked vampirism, but I’m cured, but how…?” he wondered. Then he smiled as an idea flittered through his mind, “The thought of losing you fought the beast and tamed him.”

Clark grinned at his words. Then he swallowed hard, and then he touched the blood at Bruce’s mouth. 

Bruce reached up, and wiped his bloody mouth, and realised, “Your blood, you think it cured me.”

“It’s done it before.” Clark confirmed.

An idea came to him, he wondered aloud like he always did with Clark and Alfred. “The pathogen that had infected me was intensely drawn to the one thing that could kill it. Or maybe it was just my own lust, and need for you that had drawn me to you.” He chuckled bashfully, “Of course that has always been the case.”

In response to his words, the man he loved leaned in to kiss him, but just as his lips almost brushed his, Clark stopped. Bruce remembered the blood on his lips and in his mouth. Though it was his own blood, Clark shook head despairingly and then reached up and kissed his forehead instead.

Although he was still playing catch up, Alfred took it in his stride as usual and said, “Let’s get you two cleaned up and I’ll finish getting rid of all this mess.” motioning to the bloody bedclothes.

Bruce reached out and touched Clark’s blood slicked but perfectly healed throat. Blood that had saved him.

“Yes, let’s.” he agreed.

They both stood up, and set off for the en suite bathroom. Once inside, Bruce caught his arm. His best friend met his gaze with a question in his eyes. Bruce smiled and told him, “You better tell Ollie that you’re finished fooling around.”

Clark gazed at him seriously, “You're ready for this to be real?”

After having him and then almost losing him, Bruce could admit it. “I want you to be mine. I want you to tell him that you're mine.”

His best friend sighed, “He already knows that, just like I already knew. I’ve been yours for a long time, Bruce.”

“I love you Clark.” he told him solemnly.

His friend smiled, “I know that too.”

The end


End file.
